The Hogwarts Experiment
by funkyorange
Summary: The Flock have run into a problem- a crazy old man, backed up by several other lunatics, have decided Fang is this guy called 'Harry Potter' just because he has a scar on his head. Nuts...right? Fang POV, during TAE and would be GoF, rated for language.
1. Chapter one: My thoughts on the Flock

_**This is NON CANON. Sorry, but I had to warn you. It will only be canon up until the end of the first book, maybe, and then it will go kind of AU. Make that VERY AU. It's in Fang's POV.**_

I stretched, yawning, but awake. As I crept back into the land of the living, I heard Max awaken in the room near mine. Max is not how she sounds. For one, she's a girl. None of us are, really. We might sound like a bunch of kids, some of us really are kids, as in, six and eight, having a sleepover without mom and dad. Couldn't be further from the truth.

The six of us, Maximum Ride, a.k.a. Max, the leader and oldest of the Flock, is sarcastic, bossy, and utterly beautiful (to me, anyway), is fourteen. Iggy is our blind, bomb genius. Yep, you heard right. _Blind bomb genius._ He is also a better cook then me or Max (Max burns water, but I can cook dead rats and stuff! She can't even do that.), and despite being blind can find his way around the house perfectly. He is also fourteen, six months younger than Max, two younger than me. Then there's Nudge, eleven-year-old chatterbox, who is specially gifted with the art of never losing her voice. Next, age-wise, is The Gasman, a.k.a. Gazzy. He also has a special talent: well, two, if you count the funky shit that's going on with that kid's digestive system. Gazzy can imitate voices: once he's heard them, he's got em down to a pat. The youngest is Angel, six, Gazzy's little sister. Angel's _really_ special- she can read minds.

I know what you're thinking- _you said there were six? That's five! _I haven't counted me yet. My name is Fang, and I am the quietest and funniest (if I do say so myself) member of the Flock, and if I'm not, well, I'm Max's second in command. That has to count for something. I am four months younger than Max, but we are very close, but only as friends.

We have something even more special about us, too. We have _wings._


	2. Chapter two: A typical morning

To explain the wings, you need to know the back story. A bit of it, anyway.

As far back as we can remember we were at the School. It was not a good time. We were kept in dog crates, injected with stuff, tested. But The School is responsible for our creation. We're not sure whether we were born from humans, or test-tube babies or whatever we were. But the School took us, and made gave us 2% Avian DNA. As well as the wings, we have improved senses, some of us have powers (Angel and Gazzy), we have air sacks, ultra light bird bones, and all sorts of awesome stuff. And then Jeb helped us escape. Jeb Batchelder, a Whitecoat gone good, took us here, kept us safe. He was like a dad. And then he left; he simply upped and disappeared. Max, and everyone else, is convinced he's either dead or so further in hiding that he can't reach us, ever. Not me. Jeb could have gone back to the School, apologised, told them where to send the Erasers. Wait, you won't know what they are. Erasers are part human, part lupine killing machines sent after us, to hunt us down and kill us, or maybe take us back to the School, we weren't quite sure.

Anyway, back to the story. I slipped into the kitchen, and Max seemed to feel my presence as she straightened from where she was leaning into the fridge, turned and snapped at me, "Will you _quit_ that?"

Four months younger, and four inches taller. Go me. Just to annoy her, I asked, "Quit what? Breathing?" Max rolled her eyes.

"You know what," she replied.

Iggy groaned softly and declared, "I'll make eggs." Max didn't complain. Luckily for the Flock, Max doesn't really care about that sort of stuff. Usually, it's 'are there Erasers coming' and that sort of thing, not that I'm saying it's wrong to worry. I do it, secretly, behind the emotionless mask I put up. Bidding good morning to the sleepy eight-year-old that was now slumped over the table, I sat down.

"Fang? You set the table." Max's voice broke through my thoughts of setting up a blog. Standing once more, I grabbed knives and forks, accidentally getting in Iggy's way, and set the table for six. While Max finished waking the girls, Iggy finished up the eggs, and the Gasman finished waking up. I sat down in my usual place, and soon, the air was full of Nudge's voice, telling us (in great detail) all about the dream she'd had. It was about flying, apparently. As we do that _all the time_, I tuned out. I only tuned back in when Angel said firmly, "I want to go pick strawberries today. They're ripe now."

"I'll go with you!" offered the Gasman. At that precise moment, as though he'd been waiting for it (and knowing Gazzy, he had) he let rip one of his unfortunate...occurrences, shall we say. He giggled in that adorable way only kids can do.  
>"Oh, jeez, Gazzy," Max scolded.<p>

"Gas...mask..." joked Iggy, pretending to choke on the toxic fumes.

"I'm _done_," I said quickly, disposing my plate in the sink. I was downwind from Gazzy, not a good place to be.

"Sorry," Gazzy muttered, not sounding that sorry at all.

Just the usual morning for the mutant bird-kids. Until the Erasers came.


	3. Chapter three: 3 of my nutty Stalkers

**Okay, guys, funky has an announcement. I am not American, I am English and proud, and I have no idea if Americans spell things differently or anything, the only knowledge I have is a short trip to Florida and was mostly at Disney or sleeping, and the Simpsons, and the Maximum Ride books, but I usually overlook spelling...SO, forgive me if something's wrong with the spelling.**

They came from the air. Max, being the fearless leader she is, leapt into action, but came to a halt when the Erasers froze, not breathing or blinking. Iggy was still ready to fight, but when he heard Nudge begin to talk, he asked, "What's going on?"

"They've stopped," said Max.

"Frozen," gushes Nudge. "I wish you could see it, Iggy. It's so weird." Iggy rolled his eyes.

"I wish I could see it too." He replied. Max stepped forward, wings out, ready to fly, and poked an Eraser in the face. Gazzy, being Gazzy, seeing they didn't move, grabbed a stick and pocked them with it. Iggy suddenly froze. "I can hear someone," he whispered. Max and the flock froze. An old, a younger, but still rather old man, and a man the same age as the second walked out of the trees.

The first man, the eldest of the three, was dressed in a purple dress (I have no idea why, for either the colour or the dress) and had a long, white beard and long, white hair. Blue eyes sparkled behind half-moon shaped glasses. He was very, very wrinkly, kind of like a fruit or something.

The second man also had blue eyes. They were a darker shade, with grey mixed in with it. He had black hair, and it was to his shoulders. He was thin, and his high cheekbones showed through his thin face. Nonetheless, I got the feeling that girls would swoon over him, without the wrinkles.

The third man was also good looking, in a more plain way. (How Oxymoron of me, hmm?) Brown eyes, honey hair. Thin and wiry, good cheekbones, but tired with quite a few scars, but not too many. The flock have way more from needles and being experimented on. Anyway, the beardy one stepped forward and said, "Harry. We've been looking for you."


	4. Chapter 4: My Parents and My Story

Naturally, Max got over her shock first. "Harry?" She said scornfully. "I think you're in the wrong place, old guy."

"Oh, how rude of me," he said. "My name is Professor Albus Dumbledore," naturally, this got us all on edge, the 'Professor' title, I mean. Way too like the School. "This young man is Professor Remus Lupin," he said, pointing towards the honey haired guy, "And Sirius Black." The dark-haired one. And _two_ professors? Oh, happy day. "Sirius is your godfather, Harry."

"Who's Harry?" Asked Max, in full leader mode. "And why do you think he has anything to do with us?"

Before any of them could answer, the dark-haired man ran up and _hugged _me_. Me. _Of course, me being me, I kicked him in the crotch. As he doubled over, moaning, the Lupin guy (and it didn't escape me that Lupin and Lupine were practically the same word- a trick of the School's?) hurried forward. "Harry, we're sorry," he said, "Sirius is a bit silly sometimes." They think this Harry dude is me? I have _wings_, it's not really that easy for me to be mistaken for someone else.

"Look, my name isn't Harry," I said. "I'm sorry if you lost this Harry guy, but I am so not him."

"Of course you are," beamed the nutty old guy. "You have that lightning scar, don't you?" I stared at the guy. How the hell did he know about my scar? It had been with me until I was, like, five or something, until the Whitecoats had gotten fed up with it, so they'd done some surgery and it was gone.

"How do you know about that?"

"Aha, so you _are_ Harry. I was a bit worried, because you don't look quite how you did when you were a baby, not quite as much like your father, and oh dear your mother's eyes have turned black. They did say it would be a side effect, but..."

"You know my parents?"

"Knew, my boy, they died when you were a baby. Please sit down and I'll tell you the whole story and your friends can hear it as well." Gazzy, Angel and Nudge sat, while Max, Iggy and I remained standing. "Oh, well," said the old man, Dumbledore or something. "The story begins with your parents. Lily and James Potter were a happy young couple, truly in love, until they hit a bit of money trouble. James would not inherit the family fortune yet, and his parents were very strict about borrowing money."

"Fortune?" Asked Nudge.

"Yes, fortune. Harry's family were very rich. And then, Lily learnt she was pregnant. Lily was a muggle-born witch..."

"WITCH?" We all screeched, even me.

"Oh, yes, I might as well tell you now. Magic is real, and you're a wizard, Harry."

"Fang," I corrected.

"Fang, then. James was a Pureblood, with wizard family, going back many generations, while Lily was a Muggleborn, with Muggle parents and family. A Muggle is a non-magical person. Anyway, Lily learnt she was pregnant. And that was when they were offered a lot of money for you by a scientific organisation. Lily, being very interested in science, took the offer after much deliberation. However, after a year, Lord Voldemort, a dark wizard, killed your grandparents, and James inherited the money. Lily wanted you back. So, fighting their way into the organisation's base, the School, they got you out. However, Voldemort wanted your parents dead, so he went after them and killed them. He tried to kill you, but somehow, you lived, with only the scar. I took you back to the School because that is where you belonged. Now, I want to take you to my school, named Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Well... "You're a nut," I said. "You're off the fu-lipping," I hastily remedied when Max pointed at Nudge, Gazzy and Angel, "chain."

"Now, Harry...I mean Fang, have you ever made something happen when you're angry or scared?"

I thought back. "Yes..." I said softly. Needles that wouldn't go into my arm, one time floating Jeb's pint of beer over to me when I wanted it (just to try!), all sorts of little things.

"Then you are a wizard," said Dumbledore. "And so we must take you back to Hogwarts to begin your training to become a fully-fledged wizard. Usually, training starts at eleven-"

"Then why now?" I asked, genuinely curious. "Why not find me when I was eleven?"

"Because there was no real need," Dumbledore said, very honestly. "But now, Voldemort is back, and we need you to save us from him."

"But why not train me from eleven, not from fourteen?"

"I thought you deserved a more peaceful life," Dumbledore replied. "And the Ministry thought you were dead, until we picked up on your most recent accidental magic." I nodded. I still wasn't sure, and one look at Max's face told me that she wasn't sure either, but we had to go along with it, really.

"Do we get a choice in this?"

"No," replied Dumbledore. "Not really."


	5. Chapter 5: Brownie and Redhead

So, that's how we ended up on a stuffy, too small train, when we could have just as easily flown. Angel, Gazzy and Nudge were sat on the seats, while Max, Iggy and I slouched on the floor. We weren't going to split up, ever. "Max?" Nudge chooses this moment to pipe up. "What would have happened if Dumbledore hadn't got to us?" Nudge, seeing Max, Iggy and I's reaction to Dumbles (as I called him in the privacy of my own head), didn't trust him one jot. She's a good kid. A chatterbox, but a good kid.

"Well," Max said, "we'd have fought our way out of it, moved away, and found a new safe-house, like Jeb told us to if we ever _did_ get found." But I knew she was lying: she'd seen the way they'd focused on Angel, the way they'd have seemingly killed the rest of us to get to her. Angel wasn't a traitor: there wasn't time for her to be. We all stuck together in that house, and now, we'd stick closer than that. If _anyone_ was a traitor, we'd sniff them out. Nudge was silent after Max's statement.

"What if they'd taken Angel?" She asked another question. One we had not wanted her to ask.

"They wouldn't have," Max said again, but not before Angel's horrified cry:

"They were headed for _me_?"

Max gave Nudge a slight glare, and Iggy went to have a talk with Nudge while Max went to Angel. Max hugged Angel. "They wouldn't have got to you, sweetie," Max soothed. "You know me; I'd have followed them to where ever they took you to get you."

_The School_, which was where they would take our baby girl, our littlest sister. Angel would have been held down, injected, _tortured..._Not on my watch. And it seemed Max's watch, too.

"What if they had? Taken Angel, I mean," Gazzy asked.

I decided I couldn't let Iggy and Max tackle them all at once, so I said to Gazzy, "Gazzy, _it would not have happened._ And if it had, we'd have done everything we could and more to get her back." Everyone looked at me. _So what? Mr. Ice-cold has a heart? It's not that shocking! _Suddenly, the train lurched into life, and soon after that, a red-haired, blue eyed boy came into our compartment.

He stared. And stared. Suddenly, a shrill female voice rang out, "Ron, are you _ever_ going to get into that compartment?"

"Um, can I sit here?" He asked.

"Ron, nobody should be in here, it's the last compartment!"

"Well we are," Max said frostily. Uh-oh.

"Who are you?" Said the shrill one. "Slytherins, I'd bet."

"And she tells me not to be judgemental," said the red head, so softly nobody but us, with our super-hearing, could hear it. "Well, Hermione, someone is here, and they aren't teasing me yet, so I'd say they're not." Max rolled her eyes.

"Surely, it can't be _that_ bad here," said Nudge. "We haven't even seen the place yet, and we're already being insulted."

"It won't be," Max said confidently. Iggy rolled his eyes, clearly doubting Max's statement.

"Anyway, can we sit here?" Asked the not-so-shrill-anymore voice. _Wait, she calls us Slytherins, which judging from the red-head's reaction is an insult, and then asks if she can sit with us?_

"There's already six of us," replied Angel. "You won't fit in."

"She sounds like a _baby_," came the scornful voice. Pushing aside red-head, the voice's owner was revealed. She was bushy-haired, her eyes and hair brown, slightly bucktoothed, girl, about the same age as Max, Iggy and I. "She _is_ a baby. I didn't know they let little kids into Hogwarts now! It's _the_ best Magical School in the UK." Angel's eyes narrowed. She doesn't mind it when it's the Flock, but anyone else calls her a baby...well; let's say it's very, very funny, for us, anyway, not so much for the receiving party.

"She has no idea how much trouble she's in," whispered Iggy from my side.

"Hermione, maybe you should, you know, step away? The blonde girl looks pissed."

"_Language!_" Hissed Max, before she realised that Brownie (yes, I know her name's Hermione, but Brownie suits her much better...she's very brown) had also said it. Max frowned, and I could tell this wasn't going to be something she wanted in common with Brownie. So, let's recap: Our journey has hardly begun, and we've already offended two people, counting red-head of course. And holy crap, the teachers will just love Brownie, won't they?

Great. Absolutely great.


	6. Chapter 6: The Hat and I I'm not crazyok

I was right, the teachers adored Brownie. As soon as we got into Hogwarts, a stern teacher, named Professor McGonagall, grabbed us as we were going to our quarters. Since only I would be getting a magical education, with Max, Iggy and Nudge being Muggles and Angel and Gazzy (even though they are Muggles themselves) being too young and I didn't want to leave any Flock members- who knew what would happen- so it was agreed I would get sorted but sleep in the same quarters as the Flock, who would not be, and the rest of my time would be spent in lessons, or out flying with the Flock or doing homework in the rooms, so most of my time would be spent there with the Flock, but not sleeping, just being us.

"How dare you be rude to Miss Granger?" Her Scottish Accent caught us off guard for a moment, as we're used to our accents, which are pretty weird, after we've spent a long time flying around and with scientists from all around the world.

"Well, we weren't really mean," Angel said, knowing that her big, blue eyes would get us out of it. "We're just not used to so many people." As she'd known, McGonagall let us go without incident after getting a dose of Angel's doe-eyes.

Soon, I was being hauled up to the stage by McGonagall. I could see the stares.

"Who is he?"

"Why is he here?"

"Is he a dark wizard?"

That was the sort of thing flying around, anyway. Hurrying up to the stool, I sat down and popped the hat on my head.

_Well, Mr. Potter, you're interesting._ Jumping a little, I replied quickly:

_It's Fang._

_Of course it is, Fang. Young people...Oho! They're not as interesting as you! Wings? Plans? An inner softie? Why, you're as layered as an onion! Who's this?_ The hat pulled up a picture of Max.

_Max. _

_This pretty girl has the name of a boy? Well...Anyway, what do you think of magic?_

_I think it's strange_. Talking to a hat was kind of stranger, though.

_I heard that! But that's not what I meant. What do you think of the light versus dark issue? _

_Light can't exist without dark. _

_True._

_But this Voldemort guy, if he's half as bad as everyone says he is, needs to be stopped._

_And you're the only one who can do it._

_Maybe, I don't know. Dumbledore's never said. But they need me for something, don't they? _

_Indeed they do. Perhaps, if you come to see me, I'll tell you some time. _

_Fine, I'll come visit, if Dumbledore lets me._

_I'll tell him I'm lonely and won't sort anyone correctly if he doesn't._

_Devious._

_Aren't I? Anyway, onto your sorting. You're brave, loyal- oh, but what's this? You'll do something if you believe it is right, even if it means betraying someone? _

_Yes. I'd rather go into somewhere I won't be studied._

_Well, you'd survive in Slytherin, until they found out about the wings, Ravens will study you, Lions will hurt you, the Hufflepuffs will be frightened... So, then it has to be...__**HUFFLEPUFF**_!" The last word was shouted to the hall, and politely the yellow and black clad students clapped. I went to sit with them.

Introductions followed slowly, with me sitting at the end of the table and the rest of the house cautiously staying away. With a clap of Dumbledore's hands, a magnificent feast appeared. Many magnificent dishes appeared in front of me, and to a kid who's been living off crap and hospital meals (which are in a class of their own, seriously) for his life, I was pretty shocked, and in heaven. I wondered if Max and the others were getting such a feast, up in our rooms? I could only hope so. I think I shocked a few kids with the amount I eat, though. After a few warnings, which I didn't really listen to, I sloped off back to our rooms, where the Flock were curled up on the sofa, all asleep. Empty plates were scattered around them, showing they'd had an excellent meal. Curling up under the blanket next to Angel, I quickly fell asleep with Angel's arms wrapped around me.


	7. AN

Hi guys! I am so so sorry for the wait, but my computer died. It was very sad. I miss it a lot. I'm typing this out on a friend's, so I lost all my files. Updates won't be coming quickly. _Starry, Starry Night's _next chapter might be coming soon, as might _Imma Wiserd with Commentary by a Weirdo's _next chapter. _The Hogwarts Experiment _might take a little longer.But that's not all I wanted to say. What does everyone think (my very loyal more-than-one-story-or-series readers to a 'Hogwarts reads the HP books with a difference' story? Might be slash, actually probably will be, and the books will be changed A LOT. Please tell me what you think.

Love, funky xxxxx


	8. Not an update, an adoption notice

Hi guys.

This is a letter of goodbye. I've decided not to write any more of this. This story will be deleted and never spoken of again. Unless someone wants it, and you have until July 20th, one week from now, to claim it.

One thing.

Take care of her. This story meant a lot to me, and I am so sad to give her up, but...I can't do anything with her any more.

Thank you for being so understanding, and please don't hurt me for ending this.

Love, funkyorange xxxx

PS: Thank you so, so much for believing in this when I didn't, and for reviewing and giving me the courage to write until I can't anymore. I'm sorry.


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